Sunday, November 15, 2009

The Death [and the broken mirror]

happily round the family tree / arrested in urgency

:the dry brown stalk stuck sadly from the ground so i dug with my fingernails into the earth around and saw as i sunk further the sprawling roots reaching wide and followed their spirals out and down into ever resounding schemes played freely in embarassed concern this mis-loved lament loved too truly the spoken words and waited too long for replies from the tip though feeding selflessly and hoping relentelssly and seeing only dark and dreaming only light this root so deep so sorrowful so speak of this journey down that promised high shoots to come so speak of this journey down and let peace become your song for oh so many verses and oh so many words ran up fell down resumed:

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